Chapter 350 (1/2)

After dinner, he washed dishes with his wife, and then played parent-child games with the children. After pacifying the children to sleep, he also went back to his room.

My wife is taking a bath in the bathroom in the room. The water is gurgling and tickling.

He was lying in bed, with his hands on his back, looking at the wedding photos hanging on the wall.

In the picture, I was young and my wife was in full bloom.

Lying on his back,

he squinted and fell asleep again.

I don't know how long I slept. When he woke up, it was dark all around. He fumbled in the dark and turned on the light.

Bed, still that bed, but only lying on his own.

Silently,

he sat up from the bed and curled up.

A feeling of loneliness and cold was coming to him, and some broken pictures began to emerge in his mind.

Dark clouds,

lightning,

heavy rain,

living room,

sofa

More and more he felt that he was having trouble breathing. A kind of mood called ”despair” was enveloping him, and he began to have a lot of gooseflesh.

He dare not go out of the bedroom,

dare not push the door,

he is afraid of not hearing the voice of the child,

he is afraid of not seeing his wife,

he is more afraid of going down the stairs,

he can see the sofa in the living room

”Whoo Whoo Call........ ”

Heavy gasps, but let his brain become more and more blank.

Struggling, like a thief, he quietly pushed open the door, closed his eyes, covered his ears, and rushed into the study next door according to the memory.

”Pa!”

When he closed the door of his study, he felt a stone fall to the ground in his heart.

Turbid eyes look at the pen lying quietly on the desk,

as if it has found its own support.

He went over, picked up the pen,

opened the blank book,

took out his wife's book double faced man, and began to copy it.

He is selfless,

he is addicted,

he has no other thoughts, nor dare to have any, except transcribing words.

No one urged him, but he cherished his time.

He wrote very fast and began to scribble, because his heart could not wait.

He didn't notice that his skin began to fold, like the elm skin losing water. He didn't notice that his eye socket was slowly sinking. He was not 30 years old and had large white hair on his head.

Pen ink,

is still as if it can never be used up,

can always write words,

does not need to be added.

It says,

write that the sky turns white and the sky turns dark again.

There was a doorbell on the other side of the room. He rose abruptly, pushed the door open and went out.

Standing on the second floor,

he saw that his wife had already passed below,

opened the door,

there was a visitor,

it was said that he was one of his wife's iron female fans.

The children's laughter came again, and they were watching cartoons on the living room sofa.

Seeing this,

he grinned.

Even though he was already emaciated, his chapped lips seemed to be permeated with blood.

Write,

write,

copy one copy and then copy the next,

he can't stop at all,

he doesn't want to stop,

he forgets to eat and drink,

he forgets to sleep,

in addition to occasionally hearing the news and going out to have a look,

he looks at his wife,

he looks at his children again,

then he comes back to continue Write.

He was afraid that if he didn't write, he would lose sight of them.

The horror stories of his wife are all based on his own family, the villa as the prototype, so there is a family, she and children in the story.

Under the desk lamp in the study,

there is a shadow of a man hiding behind a desk and copying books,

the shadow is very thin,

the light from the desk lamp seems to penetrate him.

More and more words are written, more and more books are copied,

gradually,

the young man is becoming thinner and more haggard,One day,

he copied another book,

when he put down his pen,

his legs were as thin as two chopsticks,

there was only one layer of tight skin on his face, which was still stuck on it,

in his eye socket, he could not see his eyes, only two lights like ghost fire were flowing and flashing

He opened the door tremblingly,

went out,

he heard his wife's voice,

he heard his children's voice.

All of these are so beautiful,

so beautiful,

this is the sound of nature,

it is the persistence and hope of living.

Don't feel bitter, don't feel tired,

what is bitter, what Tired again?

With his hands on the railing, he dared not go down. He just watched silently, listened silently, and enjoyed his own quiet years.

At this time,

he heard vaguely,

his wife was crying.

My children are crying too.

He was stunned for a moment,

why?

Why cry?

A family,

is neat,

lives happily together,

why cry?

He was a little flustered and confused. He grasped the stair railings with both hands and walked down step by step.

The next step,

is also a great challenge for him at this time.

He is afraid of falling down. If he falls down, he will fall into a ball of powder.

He's not afraid of breaking into powder,

but afraid that no one will copy,

no one will continue to write with a pen.

But he's still going down.

he's going to ask his wife and children,

What's going on,

Why are you crying?

Finally,

he went to the stairs,

he was panting, hunched, unable to stand up, and groped forward.